Revive
by awordycontradiction
Summary: Stiles felt important, like he wasn't the nothing that Cora denounced him to only a day ago.


**uhg.. this is going to turn out exactly like my Stiles & Erica obsession.. **

"Okay. We're okay._ You_ okay?" Stiles chanted in muttered breaths as he shook with a fear that was all new to him. He was trapped in an ambulance truck with Derek Hales little, unconscious sister. He wasn't sure how we got stuck with her, but the urge to protect the girl while she was lying lifeless in the hospital overtook any questions. Maybe he was just into needy girls.

But Cora wasn't needy. Not by any means. She was strong and confident and had a fire within her, a knowledge that made her seem so much older than seventeen. Well, was she _really_ seventeen? She wasn't afraid to use violence and poison words that cut deep, even if you pretended that they didn't. She was definitely a Hale.

"Why do you look like you're not breathing?" Stiles panicked, talking to the stale air and thrashing wind. She looked almost blue, a sign that oxygen was cut off. If it wasn't so dark, he would have noticed sooner.

"Because you're aren't breathing are you?" He didn't see the rise and fall of her chest, nor feel the hot hair that was meant to come from her nose.

"Oh god." It was like he was twelve years old again, watching helplessly as the doctor -mustering all the sympathy he could- shut down the machine and warranted his mother to sink _or_ swim. It was for the best, his father said. But the perpetual look of agony that seemed to mare his features to this day, said other wise.

"Come on Cora!" It all happened so quick with his mom. One minute she was fine, the next she was living out her final days in Beacon Hills Memorial. She was there and then she was gone. Sort of like right now.

Cora's heart was beating faintly, but she was still there. It kind of happened in slow motion after that. It was like Stiles' inner monologue completely shut down and he was acting solely on the instinct that he possessed. At that moment he thanked his dad -where ever he was- for forcing CPR class on him.

At first he only took it because Lydia was enrolled, and he jumped at the chance for a conversation starter. But now, having someone's life on the line, his breath the only way to revive her,

it made Stiles feel important. Like he _wasn't_ the nothing that Cora denounced him to only a day ago. "Breathe.."

He begged, and cupped her stubborn chin in his hand, then begged some more. He prayed to a god he wasn't on good terms with, not let someone else die. Not right now, not right in front of him. His lips touched hers forcefully, pulling his oxygen and the tension from his own lungs to hers. He barley knew Cora Hale but that didn't mean he wanted her to die. Derek would kill him, if Peter didn't first. "Breathe Cora.."

And like the miracle it was, she choked out and gasped for clean, sterile air. Stiles flew back into his seat and let out a sigh. His heart was pounding and his hands were shaking. His own lungs felt weak but he saw her chest rise and fall and knew something good just happened. Now if only that momentum could keep pace, they all might make it through the night.

"You know the next time I put my lips to your mouth, you better be awake." He didn't know why he said that. It wasn't like he ever thought of kissing Cora before. It would almost be like kissing Derek. He let his fingers brush against his lips, where hers just were and though it was a spur of the moment comment, kissing Cora might not be so bad.

Staring at her now, her pasty skin paling back to normal, he realized he knew nothing about her. She was a complete mystery to everyone and she just inserted herself into their lives like it was normal. Maybe for them it was.

Cora wasn't one for boundaries and she wasn't phased by moronic commentary that Stiles was known to spit. She came into their lives so quickly, brash and steely. Cora cared little about their petty teenage drama and was all about seeking information and staying alive. Stiles understood her caution and completely sympathized with the family she was born into. But he didn't get her, and that was more frustrating.

One minute she's smiling, letting him in, cooling down those simmering amber eyes; and the next she's all teeth and action and taking on alphas that could destroy her. Stiles admired her fight but not her tact. Mainly because she didn't have any.

He didn't know what was wrong with her, or where Scott was. His mind kept rushing to where Ms. Blake could stash his dad and how much time the older man had left. Sitting here, watching out for Cora wasn't saving his father. But he wasn't going to take it out on the girl, she could very well kick his ass when she woke up. The whole situation left him restless, and talkative.

"Maybe we are useless.." He started. He heard her breathing mixed with the whoosh of nearby trees. His hands rubbed together and his feet bounced on their heels. Cora was right when she said that all they did was find bodies. They hadn't been able to stop a single sacrifice, though his father had and the thought of him being lined up for one only crushed his ever limited spirit.

"I don't want to find my father's body." He mumbled with cracking words. He wished he told the sheriff sooner. If his father knew about the supernatural disaster that was Beacon Hills, maybe things would have gone different. He looked down at Cora, remembering her sitting on his bed, silently judging his approach to filling in his father.

He remembered how tight the sheriff's face was when they brought her to the hospital or how much of an ass he was for bringing up his mom. It wasn't fair and it couldn't be the last thing Stiles said to him.

If Cora was awake, Stiles knew she'd probably make a show of rolling her eyes and gritting her teeth behind those _surprisingly_ soft lips. She wouldn't let him have a pity party alone in a dark, useless ambulance truck. But Stiles _was_ alone, and in the dark monsters and doubts could creep up without a moments notice.

The girl was a full blown mystery with threatening eyes and a deadly scowl, but she was one of the first people to ever call them all out on something they were desperately trying to control. He respected her and wouldn't mind if she was to stick around. That was, if they all lived long enough.


End file.
